Growing pains and change

My free moments have been few and far between lately. Interruptions, events, appointments, deliveries, more interruptions.

Father's Day weekend started with a dance recital and birthday celebration. I'm still trying to grasp the concept that Josie is officially a 4-year-old.

We did the Father's Day run around where we didn't actually do anything special, but it was special because we were together.

Baby's First Haircut ... it still counts even if she's 4, right?

Then it was a week of doctor appointments, getting Josie registered for the Universal Pre-Kindergarten program offered by our school district (again, her being old enough to go to school is a concept I'm not fully grasping), actually celebrating Josie's birthday by taking her for her first hair cut, having the giant mattress delivered and our anniversary.

Our anniversary, which we did nothing special to celebrate other than bust ass to continue getting the house we need to sell ready for showings. After months and months and months of talking about how we needed to list it and all the things we need to do to get it ready, it's ready. Almost. As I sit here taking 15 minutes to pour my thoughts out on the interwebs, the Boy has taken a ladder and gone to paint the door frame on the back of the house and the supports on the front, maybe touch up the paint in the bathroom that I didn't get to and put the light cover back in the front light.

It's officially on the market and open for showing as of June 30.

How the hell is it already the end of June?

In celebration of the end of the month, the girls and I made a concerted effort to start going to the gym again. An outlet for all three of us that we need because being home all the time or running back and forth between here and the other house is actually more stressful than packing them up and going to the gym in the first place.

Top: 11:42 p.m. Bottom: 11:58 p.m.

And we've instituted a new bedtime plan of action. And when I'm not running here or there or that other place I'm writing a novel and planning another one and brainstorming a third. Because I'm a glutton for punishment and walk the fine line between pain and pleasure when it comes to work. But this is work I love, so it's OK.

Like I implied, things have been busy.

I'm ready for some down time. I'm ready for day drinking and the pool. Fourth of July weekend begins in five days - the babies are going out to my parent's house a couple days in advance of us and then the Boy and I will drive out for the long holiday weekend. I don't know how we're going to cope with the girls gone for a few days. I assume I'll hear phantom crying and panic and call my mother 17 times between when they get back to the house July 1 and we arrive on July 3.

Or I could just spend a majority of that time writing while he's at work, and it will be glorious and amazing and I'll feel so thankful to have that few days.

Maybe.

But before all that can happen, it's going to be a few days of craziness with packing their bags and making sure bathing suits and sunscreen and hats are all accounted for, only to likely get halfway to the meeting point and realize I left something at home. I need a list. And a glass of wine.

And 97 more hours of awake time to prepare for their first overnight without me.

Parenting is hard.

I have a 4-year-old and I'm selling the home I brought my babies home to from the hospital.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that change can be good.

It shows progress. It's demonstrative of growth.

But with growth comes growing pains, and the only way to survive that and get to the good parts is to let the pain work for you.